


For All She Gives To Us

by joy_shines



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anonymous Sex, Aphrodisiacs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, fertility rite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joy_shines/pseuds/joy_shines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a thing that happens in the Shire, a month or so before Lithe. No one talks about it, before or after, except to explain to those who have just come-of-age and are taking part for the first time. This is the year Pippin's pa gets to have the Talk with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For All She Gives To Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



> I wrote this yeeeeears ago as commentfic for the incandescent Rubynye, and just rediscovered it. I like it quite a lot, actually, so I'm reposting here. 
> 
> Obviously, I don't own LOTR - just playing in the sandbox.
> 
> Mild dubcon is for the altered mental states - there are consent procedures built in, but folks aren't quiiite in their right minds.

There is a thing that happens in the Shire, a month or so before Lithe. No one talks about it, before or after, except to explain to those who have just come-of-age and are taking part for the first time. They would come from every corner of their farthing, setting out early enough to arrive at the meeting place by dark. Those who met on the roads did not speak, did not chat in the way of hobbits. Indeed, they even ate in silence, sharing with fellow travelers, but only speaking when necessary.

This spring was the first year that saw Peregrin Took marching along the paths of the Westfarthing with the others, solemn and silent. At first, Pippin had not believed his pa when he'd told Pippin that the journey would be made in silence. Why, such an idea went against all hobbit-sense, not to mention good manners! But after the third grown hobbit shushed him, Pippin decided they weren't just having him on, and he shut up.

As the afternoon waned on, Pippin noticed that he was no longer bothered by the silence. It was not, he realized, silent. There were birds chirping and leaves rustling and the crunch of hobbit-feet against the dirt path. It became even less silent as the afternoon waned to evening - Pippin felt as though he was about to burst with the intensity of each small sound, each movement, each brush of his leg against the material of his trousers. Just as the sun began to sink below the horizon, a short gasp ran through the bunch of travelers: a fire, fierce and sudden, now flickered in the distance.

The sun was nearly down as they arrived at the fire, joining those already present. After the last hobbits trickled in, as if by some signal, every hobbit began to strip him or herself of clothing. Before he quite realized what was happening, Pippin's own hands were undoing his belt and pulling off his shirt. A moment later, there was not a stitch of clothing left in the circle of hobbits.

"Well this is right funny," Pippin thought, "won't it be grand to tell all the boys about how the elders looked in their altogether?" He looked a moment more. "But, no, that's not right...it's not funny at all. What a horrible thought, thinking it's naught more than a joke."

The hobbit next to him offered him something warm and soft - a bit of rabbit meat, the first of the season, rubbed with the first herbs and done to a turn. Then there was a cup, brimming with elderberry wine. Finally, there was a small, sweet cake - at least, it was sweet until Pippin reached the center. He almost retched at the sudden bitterness, but forced himself to chew and swallow, recognizing the taste as the spotted mushrooms that the young hobbits were cautioned against eating because they had a reputation for inducing a lack of good sense and - if a hobbit ate enough - vomiting.

As Pippin felt the wine warm his middle and the mushrooms' influence creeping around the edge of his consciousness, he pressed down his rising fear, remembering what his pa had said, over a pipe of his best leaf. "Pippin, lad, this is what we do for the land, for all She does for us. It's our way of thanking Her." In the distance, a fiddle began to wail, and several small drums began to thud steadily.

Pa had told him there would be a dance, but this was certainly not a proper hobbit dance. Pippin couldn't discern any steps or figures, but he found that if he let his body move, it seemed to know what to do. He pranced and whirled about the fire, now touching palms with other dancers, now weaving among them. Then, the music stopped. Pippen froze.

 

_"Now Pippin," Pa had said, puffing away, "when that music stops, like as not, you'll find yourself lookin' straight at another hobbit. If your gut says to, why, you just say, 'Let us give back to the land' and if that hobbit is in agreement, they'll say, 'for all She gives to us.' But if your gut says 'no,' why then, just tell any hobbit who asks 'in good time,' an' they'll know what you mean. By and by the music will start again, and you'll have another go."_

_"But pa, how will I know when my gut says yes?"_

_"You'll know, lad. You'll know like you've known precious little else in your life. 'Tis awful rare that two people's guts don't agree, and usually the hobbit who offered miscalculated, and, once he's felt what it really feels like, he'll not soon make that mistake again."_

And looking at the mop of black curls in front of him, Pippin felt the truth of his pa's words.

"Let us give back to the land, for all She gives to us." The words hung in the air, but Pippin could not say which of them spoke first or second. Then, there was a warm hand in his, and they were moving away from the circle, out to the open fields.

They collapsed together in the tall grass, falling all over each other, skin to skin. Pippin felt the roundness of the other hobbit's shoulders under his hands, and pulled those shoulders towards him, desperate to know his partner's body. Lithe hands tangled in his hair, tugging and twisting as lush lips pressed against his own. To his vague surprise, Pippin heard a growl starting in his chest, and he flipped his partner from above him to under him, diving into those shoulders with his teeth and gripping those hips with his thighs.

He was unsurprised to find that his partner was equipped much as he was, and the press of their staves straining against each other, insistent as the corn rising up from the earth, drew a gasp from Pippin, with an answering sigh from the hobbit beneath him.

After a small eternity of teeth, tongues, hands, and limbs, Pippin awoke to find the sun creeping back out of the east. He turned to see his companion shaking his tousled curls, gazing sleepily back at him. "Well, Pippin, that was something, wasn't it?" The tip of a slender finger traced the curve of Pippin's jaw, and he shivered. "Shall we thank the land again, before we go back to town?"

"...for all She gives to us," Pippin managed, before his tongue was otherwise occupied.


End file.
